


Tea For Two

by faedreamer



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Prompt Fill, Schmoop, eggsy is so in love with his man, harry is a big softie, harry is a sucker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faedreamer/pseuds/faedreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>User novalinium on Tumblr gave me this prompt for my birthday weekend prompt request:</p><p>"Eggsy takes his mom to a spa and Harry babysits Daisy. Harry doesn't notice them being back so they watch him and Daisy play tea party"</p><p>How could I resist?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea For Two

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick prompt fill because I was feeling like writing some little ficlets. Hope you guys like it!

_“Just keep an eye on her, yeah? She ain’t a bit of trouble never, swear.”_

That’s what Eggsy said, but staring at the wailing little girl now, Harry isn’t so sure Eggsy was completely forthcoming with him. But how could he have said no? Eggsy doesn’t ask for much, nothing, really, as if he’d learned growing up that it was pointless when the answer was always no. So when he turns those green eyes on Harry once in a blue moon and asks for something - Harry would sooner burn every suit he owns than say no.

So here he sits, in Eggsy’s mother’s new flat, wondering what one does to soothe a shrieking toddler. She’d been napping when Eggsy and his mother left, and there’d been a peaceful hour of time in which Harry had even gotten a bit of paperwork done on his tablet.

And then Daisy woke up. He’s offered her a snack - which is why she’s strapped into the booster chair - but she just wriggles against the strap holding her in and ignores the cut up banana on the table. Alright, snack is a no.

Hesitantly, like she’s a bomb he might need to defuse, Harry unstraps her from the seat and lifts her into his arms. Almost immediately, her cries dwindle and big, red-rimmed green eyes so like his boy’s blink up at him. He admits it, his heart melts a little. “Hello there,” he murmurs. “Did you just want to be held?” Hmm. This isn’t bad. It’s nice, really.

Daisy peers at his face curiously, little hands reaching up to pat his cheeks and then reaching for his glasses. Harry stops her with a chuckle. “Oh no, no. Merlin will have me drawn and quartered if I tell him I’ve broken yet another pair.” His lips twitch, tone conspiratorial. “He’s a bit of a tight arse, if you can keep a secret.”

She giggles and then lets out a weary little sigh. Must have worn herself out with all the screaming. So Harry sits on the couch and settles her carefully on his knee. Are 3 year olds toilet trained, he wonders? Might have been smart to ask before being left alone.

“Well, Daisy, what shall we do?” He supposes there are probably cartoons of some kind on the telly but it doesn’t feel right to just plunk a child down and let the box entertain them. “What do little girls like to do, hmm?”

Daisy apparently understands at least some of the question - he’s really not sure how verbal 3 year old’s are or what they understand - and wriggles down off his lap and grabs one of his fingers to give it a tug. “Tea!”

Harry’s brows lift as he lets her lead him across the room. “Your mummy lets you have tea?”

She just giggles again and it’s then that Harry realizes she’s leading him down towards the hall and surmises that no, the 3 year old does not actually want a cup of afternoon tea, Harry. Eggsy would laugh at him for the rest of his life if he were here.

A moment later he’s seated cross-legged on the very pink rug in Daisy’s very pink bedroom in front of a small plastic table while the little girl rummages head-first in a large toybox, muttering to herself about ‘tea an’ cakeys’ and ‘Julia can’t come, mean Julia’ (Harry wonders who Julia is and what she’s done to find herself banned from wee Daisy’s tea parties). When Daisy emerges from the colorful box, she’s got an armful of baby dolls and hurries over to drop them in Harry’s lap.

“Oh, well, thank you…” Harry murmurs, lifting one doll and eyeing it’s very unevenly chopped hair. Daisy must have given it a ‘style’ at some point.

“Wait!” Daisy demands, then spins and hurtles toward the closet at full speed, yanking the door open and grabbing the handle of a small trunk that she begins to drag out, huffing and puffing as though it weighs a metric ton. Harry contemplates offering to help, but she seems a rather independent girl and he doesn’t want to find himself banned from tea parties as well.

It takes her a minute, but Daisy eventually succeeds in dragging out the trunk and flips the lid open to reveal a neatly packed away plastic tea set. Cups and saucers and little serving platters with plastic food all get arranged just so on the table. She deigns to allow Harry to fold the colorful little cloth napkins and he takes the job very seriously. Daisy is delighted when he places a small, folded swan napkin on each fuschia plate. He can’t help but smile at her glee.

They take their time arranging the other ‘guests’ at the remaining seats and then it is time to ‘dress for dinner’. Daisy deems his suit appropriate and isn’t that a good thing since he doesn’t know what else he might wear. She does, however, insist that a tiara is necessary, dropping one right on top of his head, mussing his hair so it falls across his forehead in a way Eggsy always says is ‘dashing’. So he leaves it.

For herself, Daisy chooses a yellow ‘Belle’ princess gown and a glittery wand that he supposes is meant to be a queen’s scepter.

“Now, sing!”

Harry lifts his brows. “Sing?”

She giggles and nods. “Gots to sing, ‘Arry, ‘kay?”

Huh. “Well, alright. A song before tea, that sounds like a fine tradition, Mistress Daisy. What shall we sing?”

“Let it goooooo, Let it goooooo…”

Inwardly, Harry cringes, god help them all would that song never die? But the last thing he wants is for her to start crying again or, worse, banish him from the party, so Harry gamely mumbles along as best he can, though he has to admit her enthusiasm is adorable.

It turns out, Daisy is fine company. She likes dump trucks and One Direction, thinks the stars are pretty and Eggsy is her favorite person in the entire world. They have a good bit in common and Harry is quite enjoying himself when, suddenly, Daisy’s eyes light up, she looks right past him and bolts in a tangle of yellow satin and enormous smiles. He turns and finds Eggsy in the doorway, bending to scoop her up with a laugh, but his eyes - oh, his eyes are only for Harry.

“Did you invite Harry to tea, Days? That’s a big deal, Harry, so’s you know. Not just everybody gets invited to tea.”

Harry smiles, trying to rise from the floor without stumbling. “I am aware. I hear a poor soul named Julia is no longer allowed the pleasure.”

Eggsy stares at him for a long second, then gives Daisy a noisy kiss to her cheek to make her giggle before setting her on her feet and swatting her bottom gently. “Mum’s got sweets, Days, go see.”

Like a shot, the child is gone and Harry’s breath hitches as a blaze of heat fills Eggsy’s eyes and he strides close, crowding up in Harry’s space, stealing the oxygen from his lungs with the look he’s giving him.

“What?” he stutters, swallowing hard.

Eggsy just grins up at him, one hand coming up to his nape to curl possessively there. “You are the most perfect man, Harry Hart. Don’t you know that?” Before Harry can answer, or protest that conclusion, Eggsy just laughs softly and stretches up to kiss him like he might die without it.

Good god. Tea parties are Harry’s new favorite thing.


End file.
